A brother's view
by bethygrace
Summary: This my cheaper-than-therapy way to deal with season 2. We Oliciters could use some Diggle right about now. Someone's gotta look after our girl. Major spoiler warning if you haven't seen it anything from 2x13 on. No longer just a one-shot!
1. Chapter 1

He would never tell Oliver how he found her that night. A part of him wanted to throw the younger man against the wall and choke the life out of him. He had seriously considered it. Another part wanted to explain it all like he would to A.J. in hopes that Oliver would see what he had done.

But looking at her now, he knew it was best to keep his mouth shut this time.

He knew Oliver was gone, as was Sara. They had left the foundry hours ago and Oliver had texted him, saying he wouldn't be going back to the mansion that night. In all honesty, Dig didn't really care where he ended up. He was more concerned with the more sensitive part of their trio, the blonde IT expert slumped over asleep at her desk at 3 am.

He knew her well enough to know that she had been off for the last few days. He trusted Oliver to talk to her about it, as he usually would, and fully expected to have his fireball of a friend back to her normal, optimistic self.

Seeing the dried tear tracks on her face as he neared her told him that one of his assumptions was obviously wrong.

As he reached out to touch her arm and wake her, his eyes cut to one of her screens. His stomach dropped as he saw the paused video of what was apparently Sara and Oliver making up for lost time on the med table.

His time in the military gave him the ability to school his emotions quickly, but he didn't try to suppress the anger he felt towards the hero he worked by day in and day out. One look at the third, and arguably, best part of their trio and he drew his hand back in a tight clench.

Leaning over Felicity, he closed the window and quickly deleted the file. The fact that she had seen it once was devastating enough, she didn't need to be reminded of it another time.

He wasn't stupid. They may not have ever verbalized it but the feelings those two had for each other were as plain as day. At first, he wanted to intervene, shut it down before one or both of them were crushed. He tended to fit into the protective big brother role well when it came to Felicity, and when Oliver slept with Isabel, he wanted to throttle the younger man. Despite his sharp instincts, Oliver was oblivious to how his selfish actions impacted the tender-hearted woman who stood by him so loyally. Dig thought he had been coming around as of late - opening up a bit more, even apologizing after going off at her.

But sleeping with Sara?

With an irritated grunt, Dig grabbed Felicity's bag, tossing it onto his shoulder before wrapping an arm under her knees and another around her shoulders.

The poor girl had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, which wasn't surprising considering the burden she'd been carrying for the past few days. She didn't stir as he moved towards the door to take her home.

He knew her well enough to know that tomorrow, she would put on a brave face and go on like nothing had happened. She was not a pitiful, jealous woman. She would want Oliver to be happy. She would pretend that it didn't bother her, and more than likely, try to strike up a friendship with Sara.

Setting her down gently in the backseat of his car, he shook his head, reaching up to wipe a stray tear drop away.

"He doesn't deserve you, He really doesn't."

She turned her head slightly and Dig's heart clenched seeing a fresh tear track down her cheek.

He would take her home, make sure she's safe, and give her the night to build up her walls again. Give her the time to remember how strong she is and how valuable and how lovable.

And then he would kick Oliver's ass.


	2. Chapter 2

I had such a great response to my post 2x13 Dig-based drabble that I had to follow it up. This is a bit of foundation work for what's coming next. Wanted to set the stage a bit and create the connection between Felicity and Dig. Let me know what you think!

* * *

It wasn't the first time he had put her into bed with tearstains on her face, and camped out in her living room like a sentry.

The first time was the night of the earthquake. The night he saw both just how strong, and just how delicate his blonde friend and partner was.

By the time he had made it back to the foundry, she was in pretty bad shape. Physically, she was okay. Mentally, that was another story. It had broke his heart seeing her curled up in the corner with her tablet, shaking as she waited for someone to come. Later, she told him she had tried to get out, but couldn't get the door to open from the inside. So she had secured what she could, packed medical supplies in case they needed them, and then she had waited.

_I knew you guys would come._

The strength in her voice hadn't matched her trembling exterior, and Dig knew that this earthquake had damaged more than the structure of the club itself.

It had damaged her.

The nightmares were fierce. He remembered running into her room, sidearm drawn, ready to take out the threat, only to see her thrashing in her covers, screaming at the top of her lungs.

He never told her what she screamed. Who she begged to save her in those moments of terror.

She didn't talk about the dreams at first. By day, she was Felicity Smoak, IT extraordinaire, spending every waking moment looking for Oliver and renovating the lair. She had laser focus. No one who passed her on the street would know she had become a walking commercial for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

But Dig knew. He saw it that night. And he watched it rear its ugly head repeatedly over the first few months of Oliver's absence.

He stayed close by, realizing quickly that Felicity had no one to look out for her. No one to check on her and make sure she was eating. So he did that. No one to sit by her and hold her hand through her panic attacks. So he did that. No one to make sure Felicity knew that she wasn't alone and that the walls around her, figurative or literal, were not going to crash in on her at any given moment. So he did that.

He had watched soldiers, his brothers-in-arms, walk through the night terrors, the flashbacks, the mood swings – all the day-in and day-out hell that was PTSD. He had faced it himself.

But nothing could have prepared him for watching those same demons torment the bravest, most selfless, determined, and full of life woman he had ever known. Dig had shed more than a few tears watching her scream in fear and hide under her own dining room table when he accidentally knocked over her broom. Or the day he had been forced to give her a sedative to calm her down when she had gone back to the foundry for the first time without him. He would never forget the fear that had gripped his heart, seeing her lying in the corner, gasping for air into lungs that were already overtaxed, covering her head from the debris falling in her mind's eye.

That was the night he had pushed her to talk. To tell him just what had happened that night. And she did. That and so much more. She told him a bit about her family, enough to understand that the terror she had felt waiting for them to come for her was amplified beyond what he could understand himself. She showed him how deep her strength went, how deeply ingrained her loyalty was.

That was the night he told her he would always – _always_ – be there for her. As her friend and as a brother.

He had stayed awake all night on her couch, just as he was doing now, sidearm nearby and eyes straying to her door, ready to give his life to keep her safe.

They had walked into the foundry together – as a unit, as a family – two months after the quake. She had trembled for a moment before releasing his arm and stepping forward into the wreckage. Moments later, she turned to him and began discussing the plans for the renovation. He couldn't stop the relieved smile from spreading across his face.

She was back. Stronger than before.

With a heavy sigh, he shut his eyes, knowing she was going to need all the support he could give tomorrow. He was there the first time she walked back in there, and he would be right there this time too.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: So I'm not going to lie. I loved the episode as a whole in that we saw some pretty epic moments. Katie Cassidy, I slow-clap for you…you killed it. The Lance sisters' scene? Fantastic. Kick-A Felicity? Yes please. And the Slade reveal at the end…oh heck yes.**

**A+ episode in my book.**

**However, I didn't care for the ending scene at all. The Oliver we've seen over the last few episodes would have been more concerned about Felicity than we saw…but what I see instead is somewhat of a return to "Ollie" and a little bit of friendzoning. To me, it was a step back. BUUUUT as I signed up for the long-haul with this glorious slow burn ship, I'll roll with it. **

**But Diggle isn't a fan.**

* * *

He couldn't help but smile.

There she was, all hopped up on oxy, so proud of her "very own scar."

Though he's pretty sure the making of that scar took a couple years off his life.

And though he wouldn't admit it, a few off of Oliver's as well.

He couldn't lie and say he wasn't scared out of his mind when he and Oliver first realized she'd been shot. He had come to expect seeing Oliver with a hole or two. Even Sara carried her fair share of scars. But Felicity with a bullet hole in her shoulder?

That was a site he could live a thousand lifetimes without seeing.

Of course, she had handled it in typical Felicity fashion. A solid string of babble punctuated by the occasional wince. Sara had stopped trying to hide her grin of amusement at the other blonde, and Dig thought he picked up on a new level of respect between the two women.

Oliver was another story. He brought all new meaning to the term stone-faced. He was different than he had been after she was taken by the Count, not quite as concerned. But he was a bit distracted by another blonde in his life at the moment.

Truthfully, Oliver was a little less "Oliver" and a little more "Ollie" recently. And Dig was already sick of it.

Felicity hadn't said another word about Sara and Oliver since the night he took her home. She had shut down any of his attempts, making it clear that she welcomed Sara with open arms, per the Felicity Smoak way. She was not the petty, jealous type.

Things shifted a bit when Sara began to train with them though, and after her comment about having her own scar, he saw a glimpse of the impact all this was having on his friend.

She wasn't jealous. She was insecure.

Truthfully, it broke his heart a bit. For her to think that she was any less important to either of them due to Sara being around was illogical in his mind. And he told her so. Reminded her that she was irreplaceable.

The look she gave him in response spoke volumes. He could see every awkward encounter, every snipped conversation, every feather that had been ruffled by Oliver and Sara over the last two weeks in that moment. Combined with what she saw as her own failure to do her job, to complete her mission, she honestly looked a bit lost.

He admittedly was pissed that Oliver hadn't caught on to this, and instead kept treating her so coldly. That was not how they operated in Team Arrow, and Oliver knew better. Dig could tell Oliver was dealing with something that he wasn't talking about. But that was no excuse. He was distracted, and apparently couldn't see how he was hurting her.

That's why Dig was quick to be the one to help her into the car, down the stairs and into the chair before Sara patched her up. The big brother in him saw the vulnerability underneath the babbling and the need to protect her, even from his own friend, overtook everything else.

When Oliver stepped forward to ask her how she was, he waited, watching his two closest friends carefully. He noted that for one, she was absolutely adorable stoned. And two, she brought that same soft smile to his face that she had so many times before.

He saw the end coming before he even said the words. He saw the way she leaned into his touch and honestly flinched at the sight. He heard him put her back into the comfortable box in his mind, the one where she was there when he needed her, just close enough to touch, but just out of reach. Just far enough to deny that there is anything more than care between two partners, two friends.

_Idiot._

His eyes followed Oliver walking upstairs, undoubtedly to find Sara, Dig couldn't help but thing he was walking towards the wrong blonde.

Looking back on his friend, sitting there in Oliver's blue button down, looking perfectly content with herself, Dig heaved a sigh, knowing that once the oxy wore off, those words, that promise, was going to sting worse than the bullet wound.

And he'd be there to offer a shoulder, a smile, a hug and some ice cream.

But for now, she wanted another "aspirin," and needed a ride home.

So that's what he did. He listened to her relay the entire story over and over, agreeing that her scar was cool as any of his, until she was passed out under her covers with a soft, proud smile on her face. Bending down, he pressed a firm kiss to her forehead.

"Absolutely irreplaceable, Felicity."


End file.
